


Movie Date

by NatRomanov



Series: Journey towards happiness [3]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Movie Night, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spies & Secret Agents, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vanderwood in a ponytail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatRomanov/pseuds/NatRomanov
Summary: "Okaaay. I've got your favorite beer, you're welcome, popcorn kernels, some chips, just in case we wanna snack on something else, and that scotch you told me you like so much."That earned you a suspicious look from him, paired with a raised brow. Two of his favorites? That looked a lot like bribing to him and then it clicked."Say, what movie did you bring this time?"Your nearly bashful smile told him enough and all he could really do was groan. Not again..."I swear to god, if you make me watch another of those sappy Jane Austen movies, I will actually shoot myself."
Relationships: Vanderwood (Mystic Messenger) & Reader, Vanderwood (Mystic Messenger)/Reader
Series: Journey towards happiness [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134431
Kudos: 8





	Movie Date

**Author's Note:**

> This is another side story to "A long road", but you don't need to have necessarily read that, to understand what's going on here ^-^  
> The only thing you really need to know is that reader is not MC, and they met at the Agency

Movie dates had become a pretty regular thing, at that point. It was usually a rather spontaneous date, which more often than not were your idea. It wasn't like Vanderwood didn't enjoy it, it was quite the opposite, actually. He just didn't know how to ask, without sounding like an absolute idiot.   
Thankfully you took over and basically just decided you'd have movie nights, instead of asking. 

"You're free, right?", was the first thing you said a couple hours earlier, as soon as he had answered your call.   
"Yeah, why?"   
"Awesome! I'll be coming over around... let's say 8, for movie night. Might be staying the night, if I can't be arsed to go home, depending on how late it'll get. And we should make our own popcorn, this time! See you later then, bye!" 

If it would've been anyone else, he would've probably locked the door, or even left for the night. Since it was you, though, all he did was let out a long sigh, while accepting his fate.  
Sure, you were kind of energetic and sometimes also bubbly, but as much as it irritated the hell out of him when other people were like that, it was different when it was about you. It seemed like you were somehow the exception to so many things, and he had no clue as to why that was.   
Okay, it was a lie. He knew exactly why, but given who he was and both your jobs, he forced himself not to think too much about it. Feelings were dangerous and it was already risky that you were at a friendship kind of stage. So anything beyond that point hat to be suppressed and pushed far, far away.   
"This sucks...", he muttered to himself. 

There wasn't really more time to get lost in his thoughts, because suddenly the soft clicking sound of his door made him jump into action and he grabbed the gun that was strapped to the underside of the coffee table, not hesitating to point it at the door and the intruder.   
When he recognized that it was you, he huffed and immediately lowered the gun again. All while you looked amused about the entire thing. 

"Fucking hell, how often did I tell you that I only gave you the code for my place in case of an emergency? I could've shot you!"   
"Yeah, yeah. You never have, so far. So I'm not really worried", you brushed it off, kicking your shoes off, before you headed straight into the kitchen. "Besides, this _is_ an emergency. After all, it could be our last movie night ever, before our next mission in two days." 

You looked way too smug for his liking, especially since you've had a point, still he kept quiet and simply followed you, looking over your shoulder as you unpacked the grocery bag you've brought along. Too late did he realize just how close he was standing, with his chest nearly pressed to your back, but since you hadn't commented on it, and it would've been far too obvious if he moved away hastily at that point, he decided to remain where he was, for now.   
"Okaaay. I've got your favorite beer, you're welcome, popcorn kernels, some chips, just in case we wanna snack on something else, and that scotch you told me you like so much." 

That earned you a suspicious look from him, paired with a raised brow. Two of his favorites? That looked a lot like bribing to him and then it clicked.   
"Say, what movie did you bring this time?"   
Your nearly bashful smile told him enough and all he could really do was groan. Not again...   
"I swear to god, if you make me watch another of those sappy Jane Austen movies, I will actually shoot myself."   
"Oh come on! They're not _that_ sappy and I promise this one will be the last! But you have to see the 2005 adaption of Pride & Prejudice. It's my absolute favorite. After that you'll get to choose movies for an entire year!" 

While you aimed your best puppy eyes at him, you held out your pinky to him, nearly pouting. And oh, how he would've loved to just put his foot down and not sit through another romance, but then he remembered how invested you always got in those movies and that it was kinda cute to see that side of you. Still, if only for good measure, he grumbled a little more and feigned reluctancy, as he linked his pinky with yours. And the smile he got for that in return? Already worth it. 

Alright, now that that was all settled, it was time to prepare the popcorn. He grabbed a pot from a cupboard, poured some oil into it and then put it on the stove, before turning it on.   
After that, he decided it was probably better to get his hair out of the way, which was why he did quick work in gathering his hair up and tying a hair tie securely around it, only his bangs still hanging out and framing his face.  
In the meantime you've sat down at the table and when he turned to grab the popcorn kernels, he noticed that you were straight up staring at him. Why? He had absolutely no idea and it was kind of irritating.   
"What?"   
"Nothing. It's just... You look really hot with a ponytail, is all", you explained, still looking intently at him. 

Cue a flustered Vanderwood. Sure, he was used to the occasional compliments from people he'd had to pursue on missions, but things like that coming from you? A whole different thing. Why did you always have to be an exception to everything?!   
Instead of saying anything, and risking to talk absolute nonsense, he just huffed and turned back towards the stove, in order concentrate on making the popcorn. 

"What? It's true! You can't tell me you don't know how handsome you are", you chuckled, but instead of trying to get a different reaction from him, you grabbed the drinks and bag of chips, setting everything up in the living room, so you could beging the movie night as soon as the popcorn was done.   
That gave the brunette a moment to catch his breath and sort out his thoughts at least a bit. You made it way too easy to forget that you weren't actually his girlfriend, that you were, in fact, only his work partner. No feelings involved whatsoever. Something he'd repeat over and over, as much as he'd had to. 

"How are we looking?"   
The good thing was that he'd heard you come back into the kitchen, but what he hadn't expected was how close you'd get, nearly mirroring the way he stood behind you a couple minutes ago. Only that you had to stand on your tiptoes, with your hands resting against is back to steady yourself, as you tried to peek over his shoulder.   
_Don't be all cringy cliche now and tell her she's looking good... Don't go that low!_  
"A little longer and they should all be done", he settled for instead.

He already knew that you preferred sweet things, which was why he didn't even bother to ask and just prepared a second pot with sugar, which he melted down and then added the popcorn into it, to coat it in the sticky substance. And once you noticed what he did, he suddenly felt your arms circle around his waist and your face pressed into his shoulder. Even through his shirt he was able to feel the way you smiled.   
"Vandy, you didn't have to!", you murmured, voice a bit muffled.   
And maybe, just maybe, did he actually allow himself a second to enjoy having you so close, resting a hand on top of your smaller ones.   
"It's no big deal. Go and put on the movie, I'll be there in a minute.   
"Aye aye, captain!" 

Watching you skip off, (he did not get distracted by the way your skirt swayed, absolutely not) he hated to admit it, but he already missed your warmth.   
_For fucks sake, get it together!_ , he scolded himself inwardly and shook his head to get rid of those ridiculous thoughts.   
He wasn't allowed to have those feelings. Wasn't allowed to get too attached to you. Not even for his own safety, but for yours. In his years at the agency, he'd pissed off a lot of people and if they should ever lay a hand on you, just to get to him? He'd never forgive himself... 

"What a mess...", he sighed and finally grabbed the popcorn bowl, then moving to join you in the living room, where you were already wrapped up in the blanket, that usually rested over the back of the couch.   
And it was nearly strange how normal the sight was, at that point. Like it had always been like that. Like it was supposed to be that way.   
He was very tempted to blame his thought process on all the romance movies he'd had to sit through, because of you. They could've messed with his thought process, right? Sure, definitely a possibility. 

As soon as Vanderwood had sat down next to you, making sure to keep at least some sort of distance between you two, for his own sanity, he handed over the popcorn. The way your face lit up actually made the corners of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly. For someone who was easily able to use her heels as deadly weapons, you were way too cute... 

In all honesty, he didn't pay too much attention to the movie. What he did pay attention to were your reactions to certain scenes and he even listend to you rambling on about the things you loved about whatever had just happened. It was endearing and dare he say, he was nearly a bit proud that you let him see that side of you. But if you should've ever pointed out that he looked softer, he'd forever deny it. Thankfully, you didn't do that. But he was ready to go into defense mode, if he'd had to. 

All of a sudden, your hand shot out and you grasped his arm, causing him to make a confused noise as to why you were holding on to him for no apparent reason. It wasn't like anything big was happening, at that moment.   
"Vandy, look! This is important!"   
With a frown, he glanced back at the TV, but his confusion only got worse.   
"He helped her into the coach, so what?" 

"So what?" Your head whipped around so fast, he was tempted to ask if you were okay, because that looked kind of painful. But before he even had the chance, you already went on to explain it to him. "Okay, look. Back then it wasn't really a thing for men and women to touch. They didn't shake hands like it's normal to do now. So that's something rather intimate and the first skin-to skin contact between them, after all the tension they've already had so far. That's also why they zoomed in on Darcy's hand and the little flex he does." 

He tried, okay? He really tried not to smile at your rambled explanation, or how well you knew the meaning of that small gesture.   
But then something else hit him; He could actually kind of relate to that. Letting yourself be intimate with someone, even in the most innocent ways, wasn't really in the cards for an agent. And thinking back to all the times you so casually took his hand, hugged him or rested a hand on his arm when you laughed or tried to get his attention... It felt nice. Something he absolutely wasn't used to anymore, throwing him off more often than not, but nice nevertheless. 

During the rest of the movie, he actually made an effort to pay a little more attention to the story, still mainly listening to everything you were gushing about. And if he became a bit jealous about the way you were swooning over that Darcy guy? No one would ever know and he'd take that secret to his grave, come what may. 

When the credits finally started to roll, he let out a relieved sigh and stretched, as he made his way over to the window, where his cigarettes and an ashtray sat.   
"Aw, you actually listened!"   
"Less troublesome than having to listen to your constant nagging about me smoking inside", Vanderwood shot back, as he opened the window and then lit a cigarette. 

Weirdly enough, you didn't say anything, but he knew you were looking at him.   
"I can _feel_ you staring. What's up this time?" After taking another drag, he turned around to fix you with a questioning gaze, one brow raised.   
"Still admiring you in a ponytail. Shows off your jaw quite nicely. You should wear your hair like that more often!", was your response and you hummed as you nearly ogled him.   
Before you could potentially notice the faint blush starting to creep up his neck, he quickly turned back towards the window, glad that it was a colder night.   
_That woman is gonna be the death of me..._ , he thought.

Why the hell were you affecting him so much?! He was trained, he knew how to block out any kind of emotions. So why did you suddenly make everything so unnecessarily difficult for him?   
"Hurry, it's getting cold!", your whining snapped him back into reality and he couldn't really help but chuckle at that.   
"It's your own fault. You wanted me to stop smoking with closed windows. Now stop complaining." 

You began to pout and he watched in amusement how you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, your small frame pretty much hidden in the thick material that you pulled up to your nose.   
Even with all his teasing, he was quick to put the cigarette stump out and closed the window again, before he joined you on the couch once more.   
He had basically just sat down, when you were nearly throwing yourself into his side, leaving him to blink at you a couple times. With as much as he had already gotten to know you, you still managed to surprise and catch him off guard way too often for his liking.

"Can I help you?"   
"I'm still cold..."   
Damn, not the puppy eyes again... Muttering something about how he should change the code on his door to keep you out in the future, of course he'd never do that but the man had a reputation, he did decide to hold you close and rubbed your arm in an attempt to provide a little more warmth.   
And what did you do? You hummed happily, with your head now resting on his chest, pretty much snuggled up to him. 

If you only knew what kind of turmoil you caused inside of him with that. It was a war zone. Head against heart. Logic against longing. One part telling him he needed to keep his distance, push you away to keep both of you safe. The other part telling him to just throw everything overboard and let himself allow to be happy, just this once in his life. Be a bit selfish... 

Before he could spiral further, your quiet voice broke the moment of silence between the two of you, at the same time he felt how you wiggled your hand out of the blanket and instead began fumbling with his shirt, lips pursed ever so slightly.   
"You know... I'm fully aware that we shouldn't do this, bla bla bla, we have new identities for a reason but... My actual name is Y/N." 

For a while, all he could do was stare down at you. Well, the top of your head, with how close you still were. Did you really just tell him your name? Your real name? Just like that?   
"Are you completely out of your mind? You can't run around, telling people your actual name! That shit can get you in serious trouble! Someone could dig up your entire past with that and easily use it against you! What the fuck are you thinking? Why would you tell me that?"   
You turned your head to be able to glance up at him, shrugging with one shoulder at his outburst.   
"I trust you with my life, that's why. And as much as you're a badass, I know you're not a backstabbing bitch that would sell me out to someone", you retorted. 

Vanderwood was actually stunned by that, not quite processing what you've entrusted him with. He was still pretty much staring at you, another wave of mixed up emotions crashing over him like a gigantic wave. It was stupid to give out information like that. But at the same time he was thrilled that you seemed to really trust him that much.  
When he still didn't say anything, you began to chuckle and patted his chest somewhat reassuringly.   
"Don't worry, you won't have to tell me your actual name." 

That was indeed kind of reassuring. It wasn't like he didn't trust you. God knew he did. In fact, you were probably the only person he really trusted, even more than himself and that meant a shit ton.   
"Though I do have a question..."   
Of course you did. You always had questions, but that was also another thing that was kind if endearing. Not to mention that it was proof of you being interested in him, his thoughts, the things he liked or disliked...

"Shoot."   
"Why Mary Vanderwood 3rd?", you asked chuckling and he couldn't help but groan and roll his eyes.  
He hated his assigned name. Ever since he started working at the agency, he had loathed it. Hence why he only ever introduced himself as Vanderwood.  
"Don't ask me. Boss picked it. Why? Dunno. But I absolutely despise it."  
"Mhm... Then tell me this: if you could pick any name for yourself, what would it be?" 

Without really noticing it, he'd begun to play with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger. It was the first time someone actually asked him something like that, and he wasn't sure if he should even share it. But you've already shown blind trust in him and he was well aware that he trusted you just as much.  
"Stark", he eventually answered.  
"Stark?"   
"Just think it sounds cool", he was quick to brush it off and turned his head away from you, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

He was sure that he'd die before he'd ever get a chance to get out and change his identity anyway, so why did it still feel so nice to share it with you? It was stupid and made absolutely no sense.   
Meanwhile you'd went back to playing with his shirt, idly picking and pulling lightly at the fabric with your head pressed to his chest.   
And if you heard the rapid beating of his heart, you chose not to comment on you, which he was more than thankful for, 

"Mhm... Yeah, I can see it. Stark would actually fit you", you eventually said, and there it was again. That bright smile that could probably light up an entire room. A smile he'd only ever really seen you direct at him.  
Was it a privilege he'd actually fight for? Absolutely. Would he ever say so out loud? No way in hell. 

But for the moment, it was only you and him anyway. Also, judging by how much you were basically pressed up to him, he wasn't the only one enjoying the situation.   
A comfortable silence settled between you two again, and when he noticed that you began to drift off, he began to frown. There were three options. Number one, waking you up and get you to move to the bedroom. Number two, carrying you and risking to wake you up in the process. Number three, staying on the couch with you.   
After a bit of contemplation, he settled for the last option and began to carefully shift, arms still wrapped securely around you, until he eventually managed to stretch out on the couch, with you now resting on top of him. 

If he was being honest, it was kind of grounding. Your weight, your warmth... And then there were the adorable, sleepy noises you made, when you pressed your face to his neck, one hand sneaking up into his hair, as though you were making sure that he couldn't go anywhere.   
Those simple, little things made his heart skip and in the darkness and safety of his home, he finally let himself cherish the moment, even daring to drop a kiss to your temple. 

Maybe, just for the night, he'd let himself pretend that this was normal, an everyday thing for you two. Just memorizing it all, before he would go back to pretending that nothing ever happened and he had absolutely no feelings for you. No matter how difficult it might be. It was for the better that way...   
"Good night, baby girl..."


End file.
